


Monster from the closet

by thecipher



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, Horror, M/M, Monster!Bill, Mysticism, Some Slash, hum!Bill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-18
Updated: 2018-02-28
Packaged: 2019-03-20 17:58:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 17,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13723026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecipher/pseuds/thecipher
Summary: Sometimes the closet is not just a closet - it is dark and full of horrors.And you never guess what or who is hiding in it.





	1. Chapter 1

Knock - knock.  
The knock falls on the ears like drops of water on a stone floor and is given a dull headache. He does not cease for a minute, presses on nerves.  
It's frightening.

Knock - knock.  
Under the floorboards rustles and creaks; flocks of translucent termites gnaw through the courses in the wood of the walls, grind them into trash with small mandibles on round heads.  
The knock mixes with their rustling and picks up to the bones a chilling alarm.  
An anticipation of danger.

Knock - knock.  
The girl on the next bed sighs in her sleep and turns to the other side, rustling her pillow with long brown hair. His hands are spread out to the sides, like two pink wings with indistinct outlines of patterns.  
She quietly sleeps while her brother goes nuts in a dark room, alone with gnawing termite walls, dead moonlight and the incessant thud that comes from the old closet.

Knock - knock.  
He hides under the blanket, but a knock hits him and there, becoming louder and more insistent.

Knock - knock. Knock - knock. Knock - knock.  
And suddenly he abates - abruptly and momentarily, as if someone is spinning an invisible tap, and the water stops dripping.  
Silence comes in the attic.  
It is deceptive - from it it becomes even more terrible.  
Dipper pauses under the blanket, firmly biting his teeth in the collar of his T-shirt.

Along the walls runs something invisible, clicks on the tree a dozen claws and stops over his head. A black shadow spreads over the ceiling, becomes more and more, tears in the middle with uneven spots of light, like eyes and a wide-open mouth.  
The shadow is approaching to absorb it.

Fear squeezes his throat when Dipper wants to scream. He opens his mouth, but instead of his own cry he hears the door of the cupboard creaking in the far corner, opening slightly to the palm of his hand.  
... Something comes out from there, quietly stepping on the floor and leaving no traces on a thin layer of gray dust.  
It breathes and whistles and sings with its nose, looking for it by the smell.  
It goes to him. It follows him.

***

His grunkle and his sister call him gone. In the early days, when it all begins, he tries to tell them about the cupboard and what is knocking on it every night, but they make him laugh.  
As always.  
They believe that if something is not seen, then it does not exist at all. They believe that his books about ghosts and a shabby diary describing the paranormal beings and the Gravity Falls zones are to blame for everything.  
They do not even try to understand him and believe him even for a second.  
"Stop reading your books, and you will stop imagining any nonsense!" - that's what they think.

When he leads them to the closet and asks him to open it, trembling with fear and helplessness in front of a new riddle, they look pointedly at each other.  
The cabinet opens wide, and before their eyes there is an empty dark interior with a pile of old magazines.  
That's all.

"There's nothing here and no one," says his grunkle and slams the door with a crash-there are cracks left on it, and a round handle falls to the floor and rolls over the old trunk.  
"Dipper, this closet is completely empty, you see?" - shakes her sister's head and strokes his sweat-soaked from the sweat.  
"It just seems to you," they both say and do not return to this topic.

He falls disappointedly at his bed and clearly understands that the closest relatives  
left him indifferently with danger.  
They think that he i m a g i n e s this. But he knows that this is not so.

***

In the afternoon, the closet does not represent anything mysterious and strange - a common piece of furniture, old and ugly, not causing any suspicion. But at night it turns into a repository of nightmares, and Dipper is scared to imagine how many of them are there, where they come from and what the thing wants from him, something knocking and wandering around the room with an invisible ghost.

His device for detecting and catching ghosts does not react to what is hiding on the other side of the cracked door - Dipper turns it on every evening, and checks the indications in the morning, which are not.  
Hence, there is hidden something more mysterious and dangerous than a simple unhidden spirit or poltergeist.  
But neither the book nor the diary can give him any information or at least a clue about this.

He puzzles over the mystery of the old closet and is afraid.  
He is afraid of trembling under the ribs and sticky palms from the sweat.  
He is afraid that the heart begins to stop, and the blood - to get cold, just behind the window falls the night haze.  
And then everything starts anew.

The sister is asleep - the wings of her arms are spread over the pillow, her mouth is slightly open, the old soft toys are carrying a silent watch on the headboard - and he is trembling under the blanket and waiting for the cabinet door to creak, then Something will come out and start looking for him again in the dark room.

Once Dipper decides to catch him. In the afternoon, he brings a couple of buckets of sand from the yard and sprinkles it on the floor directly over the wiped rug, packages from chips and comics read.  
"Why are you doing?" - asked her sister, suspiciously squinting at her brother, then on a flat sand layer on the floor.  
"In the guide to the ghosts it is said that so you can catch the invisible. He will leave his tracks on the sand, and I will understand who he is, "Dipper answers, and very much hopes that in the morning she will be able to find out what kind of something comes from the closet.  
But looking out from under the blanket, just as dawn enters the room, he sees nothing. No traces on the evenly scattered sand.

From that very night a rattle is added to the knocking-as if someone is driving an iron claw on the glass or scraping the bottom of a metal frying pan.

Shrrr- shrrr.  
Like a creature from a cheap horror film makes its way through the old sewer to pounce on the main character in the bathroom and tear her to pieces. Or a vampire from Kroglin-Grange, a bony monster with burning eyes, scratching the windowpane.  
From this rattles the entrails; The Dipper lies in bed and feels his feet freezing, as a creeping creep crawls over them, resting somewhere in the stomach.

Shrrr- shrrr.  
Something is cracking the inside of the door and crackling with something - this crunch is like the sound of bones in a meat grinder - and it is covered with a wave of horror.  
The door squeaks creaking, ripping the dead silence of the night, and the crouching footsteps are heard from the termites that are eaten by the termites.  
Dipper tries to open his eyes to see, but his eyelids are filled with super glue, and he can not split them even by a quarter of an inch.  
Steps freeze near his bed ...  
And he falls into the pit of a sudden sleep.

In the morning, he looks convulsively around, looking for traces of the presence of the otherworldly in the room.  
He is waiting for disappointment and some relief - no trace.  
Everything, as before - a sister's bed with a variegated coverlet thrown at her, his own bedside table, littered with books and scraps, a pile of rubbish on the floor, a chest and a closet - just a closet, as it becomes with the approach of the day.  
But even in the sunlight, he scares him to a shiver in his lap.  
As if the invisible, emerging from him in the dark, even now watching him.  
Behind every move. Behind each sigh. Behind every thought in his head.

During dinner, he asks grunkle to allow him to take a sofa in the living room, but he refuses.  
"You have a bunk in the attic, kid. What, ceased to arrange? And why should I care? Sleep, where you sleep, and no "but", you understand? "  
He must obey and every evening return to the attic to a frightening closet and nightmares, after which he feels exhausted and half dead.

Dipper forgot that he came to Gravity Falls not just to rest, but also to solve the mysteries of this amazing town. He does not remember the last time he opened a diary to supplement a note on gnomes or forest lights.  
He thinks only of one thing - about something in the old closet.

It takes up all of his thoughts, and when the fear of him recedes slightly, Dipper thinks about what would have happened if he had unraveled the secret of this invisibility.  
If he at least slightly opened the veil of secrecy over himself, appearing out of the darkness.  
This idea attracts and scares at the same time.  
Attracts to stabbing at the fingertips.  
Frightens to cramps in the abdomen.  
... And one day he begins to hear a voice.

He comes to him from afar and looks like a radio broadcast from a lost island in the ocean.  
"You just need to call me," - poured like a sticky syrup.  
"Just calling," repeats again and again, as if on an old, dead plate.  
Dipper covers his ears, but the voice continues to sound, echoing from the walls.  
"Call me, call me, call, call ..."  
And his nerves can not stand it.  
\- Yes, show yourself already, at last!

The voice ceases, giving way to a soft, raspy laugh, from which my back is covered with myriads of creepy and sweaty drops.

"Look up".

Dipper obediently raises his head and squeezes into bed, clinging to the pillow, like a drowning man - for the lifebuoy.  
From the night-darkened ceiling, two yellow eyes with narrow oblong pupils are looking at him.  
The laughter subsides, and instead of him, an uneven, raucous breath is heard in the room.

And then someone falls falls directly on him and embraces Dipper with his long, icy hands.  
H u m a n hands.


	2. Chapter 2

Someone from the closet has a name - Bill. He looks like a man: a tall, angular figure is covered by a dirty-yellow shirt and worn trousers. Blond hair falls on a pale face with a colorless mouth and skin tight cheekbones. When he is broken and swivels around the room, his limbs seem to fall out of the joints, like a patient with a chorea.  
Bill is awkward. Bill is unnatural. Bill does not go to be a man.

He says that he can take any form he likes.  
"Do you want me to be you or that little girl from the next bed? Insects? The bat? A cat? I can do it."  
Dipper is silent, looking at him with wide-open eyes-with fear and a little curiosity.  
He definitely does not want Bill to become his sister.  
But to look at him in some other guise would not have refused.  
Bill seems to be reading his thoughts, and after a few seconds, a skinny cat with a sandy-colored hair and pale tan marks appears on the sides in a pool of moonlight.  
He meows, jumps on the bed and stares at Dipper with burning eyes.  
This cat has nothing to do with ordinary cats. It blows cold, and it looks more like an animated scarecrow - one that is ordered after the death of pets.

He discards him; the cat falls to the floor and again becomes a man.  
\- Who are you? - Dipper asks, fear and disgust are quarreling.  
"I told you, Bill!" Angrily responds.  
\- Where are you from?  
He means that he does not believe in a drop that the closet is just a cabinet. Surely there is some portal or door to other worlds, where Bill leaves the day and from where he comes at night.  
"Do you want to know this?" - he growls, apparently, understanding the hidden underlying reason of this question. "All right, I'll show you." But only after you give me something in return.  
"Is this something like a deal?" - Dipper suspects and receives in response a slow insinuating nod. - What do you need?  
Bill looks around - his unblinking gaze slides around the room, probing every object. On something, he lingers with interest, ignores something. And, finally, chooses.

"I want it," - the pale hand points to the toy rabbit at the head of the sister.  
Once Dipper had exactly the same; he lost it by playing in the kindergarten. More precisely, the hare was taken away from him by the boys and thrown into a thick bush on the border of their promenade.  
"I want it," Bill says, but Dipper shakes his head.  
\- That's not mine. I can not give you someone else's thing. Choose something else. Do you want any book or magazine? Or my flashlight, for example?  
\- No, I want it,- Bill insists. - The girl already has a lot of little animals, and they do not need her. I know, - he blossoms with a mysterious smile, - in what and with whom she plays now. She will not even notice that he is not.  
Dipper shrugs his shoulders and reluctantly agrees.  
"But you can take it only after you show me where you come from."  
Bill smiles thinly and leads him to the closet, and then jerks the door open.  
There's still nothing there. Dipper sees the back wall with mold stain, logs and emptiness. Even at night, the closet remains a wardrobe, despite the fact that an unknown creature with a human face emerges from there.  
He is disappointed and emits a long, frustrated sigh, to which Bill replies with a laugh:  
"What did you expect to see there, kid?" Door to the mysterious world? A secret passage? A temporary funnel? Do not make me laugh! There are fewer secrets in this world than you think. And now give me it, give it, give it!  
Dipper, without looking at him, hugs the hare, and Bill grasps it with his long fingers. On the edge of the lips runs the tip of an acute tongue; he in one motion tears the toy in half and looks in surprise at the falling pieces of sintepon on the floor.  
His yellow eyes go out and his teeth creak.  
\- What kind of nonsense? He asks, angrily looking down. - Where are the juicy intestines and smooth bones? Where is everyone?  
On his face, surprise and resentment, and Dipper unwittingly grins.  
"You thought he was alive?" Well, sorry, we do not have such. You can look in the forest, if you want.  
Bill growls and throws the corrupted toy into a corner before disappearing into the closet. His disgruntled murmuring is heard from there for some time, and then subsides.  
The rest of the night Dipper sleeps quietly. Extraneous sounds and voice do not bother him anymore. Apparently frightening him, Bill simply attracted attention or sought to be called.

 

In the morning, the sister finds a torn toy and anxiously asks him what happened. He shrugs his shoulders vaguely, not answering anything concrete.  
He does not want to tell her about Bill. She still does not believe him.  
The sister sews the hare again and hides it in the trunk - "from the night ripper monster", as she says.  
Dipper turns to the wall and with a sigh thinks that the sister, without knowing herself, is absolutely right.

Bill does not appear for several days. Dipper drinks a lot of coffee and waits for him until dawn, but the strange humanoid monster never looks out of the closet. Their first communication was not the most successful, and it is possible that Bill will no longer appear.  
But Dipper still hopes. Bill interested him.

Several pages in the journal are assigned to him - Dipper writes his speculations about his origins, diligently sketches his portrait and tries to find in it similarities with other otherworldly beings known to him.  
But they are not.  
It's all about the lack of information, he thinks. He knows little about Bill: the fact that he comes out of the closet, knows how to take the appearance of the animal and can not distinguish the living from the lifeless.  
He also likes to make deals and steal other people's things. But Dipper will find out about this later, when her sister is missing a sweater with a falling star. She searches the entire house, but there are no sweaters, and this worries her very much.  
"He's my favorite!" - crying sister, and Dipper starts guessing where he could go.

"Bring the sweater back!" - he demands, pounding his fist into the door of the cupboard.  
\- What? - a surprised voice is heard from the inside, and a moment later Dipper's yellow eye gleams, shimmering from a narrow crack.  
"You yourself know which one." Do not pretend, Bill! Give what you took and do not take anything more without demand, do you hear?  
He believes that he speaks firmly and confidently, but Bill discerns in his voice a note of fear and screechingly laughs at him from the musty semi-darkness.  
"Look, what a formidable kid!" And what do I get in return? M? M?  
"Actually, you stole it, you know?" Why should I give you something?  
Bill protrudes to the waist, spreads his hands and mockingly grins:  
"Everyone survives as best he can, kid." What's wrong with that? My possibilities are limited, and the needs are great, so we have to look for ways out of the hopeless positions. so what? Do we conclude the deal?  
Dipper nods and feels his hand grip the ice fingers, binding their deal.

Bill returns the sweater in exchange for human food. "I've always wanted to try it!" He says, before plunging sharp teeth into a piece of cold pizza. He does not like it - he wrinkles his nose, spits and snorts like a cat, choked with his hair.  
"Maybe you should bring something else?" - Dipper rubs in the back of the head and pushes scraps under the bed. Bill's reaction to him is not clear - he himself considers pizza tastiest of all that is on the world. With the exception, perhaps, ravioli with pesto and chocolate ice cream. - Do you want a sandwich?  
He does not offer it out of politeness. It says the research interest. He collects information.  
\- Do not. The taste of your food is like a rotten potato peeling that has lain in the burial ground, "Bill whimpered, squeamishly wiping his mouth. "Another mischief!" However, like yourself - rubbish absorbs rubbish, and this is not surprising!  
"Do not you like people?" - Dipper's back runs through the chill of anxiety, and he steps back a couple of steps. Bill looks at him with narrowed eyes and smirks even wider.  
"Maybe I do, or maybe not," he drops, again disappearing into the closet. - The bottom line is that I've never tried them!

In Dipper's journal, a few of new notes appear, and he himself has a vague suspicion that if Bill suddenly decides to clarify his attitude toward people, he will start with it.  
And Dipper does not want to know exactly how he wants to t r y h i m.


	3. Chapter 3

"Why does she never wake up when you come?"  
Dipper nods at his sleeping sister, and then looks at Bill, walking around the attic. He snorts, approaches the next bed and picks up a long strand of girlish hair.  
"Because I want so much," he says with meaning. "She will sleep soundly." As dead, - the voice breaks into a whisper, from which on the back of Dipper runs a flock of thorns. The clarification is not the best, but Bill likes it.  
The word "dead" in his mouth always sounds like a threat, and he often uses it, enjoying the reaction.

"If she woke up and saw you, she would no longer consider me crazy."  
In Dipper's words there is a reproach and a timid request: show yourself to her, let her know that in the closet someone really lives, let him understand that everything that the brother is talking about is real.  
"She would not have seen it," Bill scoffs mockingly, throwing a mocking glance at him. "Only you see me here." And come on, - Dipper does not have time to blink an eye as he finds himself next to him. Runs on the shoulder with joint fingers, cold thighs touching his thigh, deadly cold and bony, - keep this secret of your little feature. We do not want - his voice rustling over his ear, like a gust of the winter wind, - that someone would interfere with our sweet friendship?  
Dipper blurs - and from touching, and from the word "friendship", uttered by this strange creature.  
With Bill, it is impossible as well as any human relationships.  
Bill as an imposed roommate, like the Brownie, occupying the house on some mystical right. To get rid of him, you can only go himself, and until then simply tolerate his presence, limiting himself to short communication on the case. What is happening between them, in general.  
Something else is out of the question.

Bill continues to steal things, demanding in return any little things: a pocket mirror instead of a cup with a piglet, increasing the crystal for a piggy bank with twenty dollars "for soda"; One day he asks Dipper for a stuffed rod and even a living squirrel, promising to return his notebook with sketches of dinosaurs and robots.  
"Nice soft squirrel, - he says, probing the frightened small creature. - Nice warm squirrel...  
From his deliberately tender tone, Dipper's blood runs cold. The squirrel pierces and breaks out - small black eyes almost crawl out of shaven, while Bill presses the tips of his fingers into the furry body.  
Watching her fear and torture is unbearable.  
He wants to ask - no, demand! - that Bill let go of the squirrel, but he lacks determination.

A memory flashes through my mind: a couple of neighbor boys caught a rat in one of the garbage cans, dragged her to the schoolyard and started the show. They beat her with sticks, threw stones, burned a bald tail and thin ears. The rat eagerly twisted and rushed in different directions, trying to escape, but this only provoked the tormentors and the crowd that came to see the free show.  
Then Dipper tried to do something - rushed with his fists at one of those boys, shouted, but a couple of strokes under the ribs and over the head made him retreat. Two stalwart classmates kept him until the rat was slowly killed before his eyes. Then he also looked at her - with pity and a sense of doomless impotence.  
Now no one is holding it - he can be indignant, take away the squirrel with difficulty and release it. But he does not do it.  
Bill is not a boy from a parallel class and not even a person.  
He is an unknown incomprehensible creature.  
And Dipper does not know anything about what he can answer, if to stop him.  
Later, he curses himself for his weakness and cowardice, while a content grunt and a low measured crunch come from the cupboard.  
By the morning he gives himself the word that Bill will never get anything from him again.  
His requests became too frightening. And squirrel is far from the limit.

Dipper suspects that Bill ate a squirrel, but he keeps silent when he asks him such a question and rubs out sharp triangular teeth.  
In his view, this eerie grin denotes a smile.  
"What do you care, what has become of it?" He asked indifferently, rubbing the little corner of his mouth with his little finger. "You gave it to me, and so I could do whatever I wanted with it!" Let it go free or turn it inside out - by the way, squirrel caps are miraculously warmed in the cold ... when they are fur inside, and meat is outside! "Bill is making a wild laugh, and Dipper is struggling to contain the vomiting." The bitterness rises to his throat, and he swallows it briefly under the loud screechy laughter of the creature at arm's length.

"You're a crazy, monstrous monster," Dipper squeezes through clenched teeth and moves to the very edge of the bed. "And you will get nothing from me!" Even if the whole hut is dragged, if you can not do without it do not care! I do not need anything, take it, give it, but do not even try to demand anything in return, understand ?!  
"Oh, my little sweet friend is angry?" Or is it such an attack of unprecedented generosity? Bill shifts over the blanket, pushes himself closer and looks at him with his yellow eyes. - I will prefer the second! And if I can take everything I want ... "His gaze rushes around the room and freezes on the outlines of the body under a mottled blanket with stars," how about girl? "  
"Do not you dare approach her!"  
"Then ..." Bill moves closer; Dipper is covered by a wave of his heavy breathing and the cold of a lean body - that affected book that you hide under the pillow. I think it's very interesting, but I like everything interesting! Give it to me, and the trash from this shack, so be it, leave it to yourself!  
\- Never! - intentionally or not, but Bill touches on the most expensive thing Dipper has. What he can never part with is his sister and journal. And if the loss of the book with priceless knowledge Dipper could still survive, then losing his sister for him would mean death - if not the body, then the soul for sure.  
He is afraid to imagine what will happen if Bill, despite the ban, nevertheless reaches out to them with his vile paws.  
He is afraid to imagine, but he knows for sure that he will not allow this to happen.  
"You're a liar, kid," Bill whispered his ear and tangled in the strands of hair that was wet with sweat, "he said that I can take whatever I want, and now you do not give me either." He nods briefly toward his sister, nor this! - Flexible fingers traverse the folds of the blanket, stopping at the edge of the pillow, from where the edge of the book cover can be seen. "I am disappointed and deprived, therefore to you ..." he pauses and insinuates hissing, "it would not hurt to compensate ... my disappointment."

He is so close that almost lies on Dipper, pressing him into bed.  
It's getting scary. Before my eyes, black dots blink, merging with yellow gleams of sight, full of anger and resentment.  
The air between them disappears - Dipper opens his mouth, but instead of oxygen swallows someone else's intermittent breath. Bill jerks sharply forward and finally squeezes him to the blanket completely, squeezing his hips with his sharp knees. The touch of his fingers leave a spiky trace on the skin, the tip of a long nose pulls over his bare neck, dying over a tight Adam's apple.  
Dipper is shackled by disgust and expectation of something terrible.  
The beating of the pulse responds in the head with the blows of the bell.  
In the stomach he cuts and twists, like from hungry nausea.  
Bill does not take his eyes from him, burning with ravenous rage, and quickly licks his bloodless lips, dropping a string of transparent saliva on his shirt.

"He will eat me. - suddenly flashes in my head. "Like that squirrel." He will eat me now. "

\- No!!! - it breaks, and he screams so that he lays his ears. Fear gives him strength - he turns around and throws Bill away, eagerly swallowing the dust-laden attic air.  
His throat hurts from screaming. A thin, invisible film of cold freezes on the palms of his hands.  
Bill hisses and retreats across the moonlit floor, curving like a cat scalded by boiling water or a hyena alarmed by a predator. The gnashing of his teeth and his wheezing breathe echo in the silence to the deaf echoing to the bone.  
There is a long squeak, and Dipper remains alone.

In the morning, his sister climbs into his bed and looks anxiously at his face, wiping his cheeks with warm palms.  
"You look like you've been raped all night long," she says, and hugs him, covering them both with a blanket.  
Dipper silently hides her face on her chest and does not say a word.

Later, he shakes out his twenty dollars from the piggy bank, buys atarax and immediately swallows a few tablets, squeezed them with brackish water from a broken hydrant.  
This and the next nights he sleeps peacefully and without dreams. In silence and alone.  
Bill does not show up anymore.


	4. Chapter 4

The first nights without Bill are held in suspense. Before going to bed, Dipper turns around in bed for a long time, listens to every rustle, does not take his eyes off the darkening in the corner of the cupboard.  
But from there no one appears.  
Dipper puts three atarax pills in his mouth, covers himself with a blanket and falls asleep until the morning.  
Little by little life becomes the same: Dipper again begins to study the anomalies and disappears late in the forest or in the city, searching for new riddles and diligently writing his own journal.  
Pages dedicated to Bill, he tears up with a root and burns over the flame of a cheap lighter.  
He wants to get rid of any reminder of him. Strike it out of your memory as a terrible, but fleeting episode, forget it as a horrible nightmare.  
Atarax helps him in this, but not as good as we would like.  
The pills does not drive away the underlying feelings of anxiety and anticipation of an unknown danger. Sometimes the chest presses and tickles; Attacks of paranoia, though short-lived, do not disappear anywhere, making you nervous from scratch. Dipper reassures himself that everything is fine, but soon recognizes that he does not believe in himself.  
A long study of paranormal beings showed him that they never disappear without a trace.  
They always come back to get what they need.  
What Bill wanted from him, he does not understand until now, but clearly and clearly knows - not buying back trinkets and forest animals brought him into the closet in the attic, but something else. But what?..  
At night, falling into a black hole of sleep, he hopes to never know about it.

One of the Saturdays, Dipper chooses the city: his attention is drawn to an old house near the museum. It is rumored that at night strange lights come on in his windows, and he associates it with ghosts. But when he raises the house from top to bottom and checks each corner with his miracle device, he discovers that he is clean.  
There are no traces of a poltergeist, astral essences or undisturbed spirits.  
When a pocket flashlight is found under one of the windowsills, Dipper understands that the mysterious phenomena are just a joke of the children and leaves, grieved that he did not encounter another interesting mystery.  
But soon it turns out that he was just looking in the wrong place.

 

In the afternoon in a small cafe with shaky tables and delicious pies, a whole crowd is crowded: shop workers and gas stations, bored schoolchildren, visiting tourists and just those who want to have a hearty lunch for a little money. A table in the corner is occupied by a logger company; Dipper notices the huge figure of Brave Dan and pokes into the plate, pretending to be fascinated by a portion of pancakes.  
Loggers are whispering about something, drowning out their conversation with the rumbling of mugs and the creak of chairs, but he hears scraps of their conversation and is alarmed.  
"There, in the forest ..."  
"It's buzzing and shaking under the ground ..."  
"Old man Fisher saw the green light, well, like in that movie about aliens ... I have a small look ... -" The X-Files? "- Yes, exactly, in it!"  
"You drop the ax - you'll pick up the horse-radish, pull it like a magnet ..."  
Dipper eagerly catches every word, but while it takes courage to come closer, the loggers are already leaving.  
He flies home like wings. A new mysterious mystery takes up all his thoughts, and he does not remember Bill even for a second.

 

In the Third journal are the meager references to the anomaly mentioned by the woodcutters - a miserable page of the disconnected text, some hypotheses, and no facts.  
This warms up interest to the limit. Dipper does not find a place and is exhausted from the desire to unravel this mystery.  
"This is something incredible! He says to his sister, fussing around in the attic. "I have to go there!" If this anomaly is really connected with aliens, humanity is waiting for a huge breakthrough! And I can be the first who will be able to establish contact with them! Yes, all my childhood dreamed of this, and now my dream can come true here and now! "  
His hands are shaking and he gets wet under his arms from excitement and desire to act. He is ready to rush into the forest this very minute, but his sister stops him.  
"Dipper, it's dangerous," her eyes are full of anxiety as she holds her brother by the edge of the T-shirt, "you do not know anything about this place!" What if the aliens kidnap you? Or turn into something nasty? Or will your memory be erased? You yourself know that they can do it! How can I be without you? I'll die if something happens to you! "  
In the voice of her sister there is a tear. A lonely tear streams down her pale cheek - she smacks her sleeve with a sweater and snorts loudly.  
Enthusiasm is a little extinguished. Dipper falls to the bed and looks at the ceiling for a long time; her sister sits next to him and takes his hand.  
"But I must ..." he sighed, his eyes fixed on the wet spot above the wooden beam. - Gravity Falls anomalies can be directly related to this place, and if I investigate it, I can find the answer to a bunch of questions and make a lot of discoveries, you understand? .. "  
"I see. But I'm afraid for you! I only have one brother, and that's you! Can ... first try to find out something? She added uncertainly, noticing the dead expression on his face. "Well, before you go there?" Talk to Brave Dan or Wendy, maybe he told her something. Then you will have at least some information. And I will ask prudyadya to give you a gun or a smoke bomb, and you'll be armed if suddenly aliens decide to attack you! You will conquer them all and learn everything you need! Ah, Dipper? Bup! "- Sister jokingly pokes his finger on the cheek, and he involuntarily smiles.  
He will do as she wants, because she recognizes her right and is whole heartedly grateful for the support and concern. Despite the fact that they are completely different and there are often disagreements and disputes between them, he loves her very much. And she too.  
For her sake, he must protect himself, which means he needs to gather as much information about the mysterious place, before going there.  
But where to look for it, he does not know.

Wendy's call does not give anything - the daughter of Brave Dan is surprised to be silent in the tube, and then says that her father did not mention any mysterious places. "He rarely tells anything, he comes and goes to sleep or yells at us. I'm sorry, dude. "  
Dipper shakes out and sighs heavily. Approve with questions to the eyewitnesses, he is afraid - loggers are very peculiar guys, and before Dan grows shy, and not in jest.

"Do not worry," the sister pulls the neck of the sweater almost to the very mouth and climbs under the blanket - you can try to ask someone else! Or make an ad on TV: "Hello everyone! We are giving a very important message! All those who saw aliens, please call the number at the bottom of the screen! "- she winks at him and smiles broadly, but Dipper is skeptical about her proposal.  
"Nonsense! So they ran to call and tell ... - in his grumbles there is a ton of sarcasm and disappointment. Even the encouraging smile of her sister is not capable of dispelling his gloomy mood. - There must be more options ... And why do you go to bed in a sweater? "- he only now notices this.  
"But do not you feel it? - Surprised in response. - It's horrible how cold it is! "  
Dipper really does not feel, but the sensations of his body now worry him least of all.

The sister falls asleep quickly; in a few minutes he hears her even, steady breathing. Outside the window the windless night thickens - no sound is heard from outside, no rustle, no voices of forest birds. Above the hut is absolute silence. "Dead," Dipper thinks, and inadvertently imagines how Bill would pronounce this word: slowly, in syllables, savoring each letter and rolling it on the tongue.  
The thought of him becomes uncomfortable. He shivers briefly, reaches for the lantern on the nightstand and lights it, diluting the thick darkness with an orange light. A half-empty pack of atarax shimmers silver on top of the covered notebooks.  
He will accept it later when he sleeps. If at all, too much needs to be considered and solved.

A mysterious anomaly could well be found not by some lumberjacks. Where she is, often wanders the people: tourists, foresters, teenagers - probably one of them knows about this place.  
"Someone had to stumble upon it! - Dipper argues, not noticing how he pronounces the individual words aloud. "Even one person, except Dan and his company, must know about him!"  
"I must," whistles in his head.  
On the legs it smears of cold; the silence becomes so tangible that it can be touched. The voice whispering under the cranium's skull becomes louder and more voluminous, dropping out of it by its drop and hanging in the unexpectedly piercing air.  
The lantern flashes and flashes.  
In the darkness, something ominous is almost tangibly spreading, making its way to the skin itself.  
And Dipper knows what it is.   
W h o is it.  
... He slowly counts to three and looks up to see Bill staring at him from behind the ceiling beam.

 

Bill looks even more disgusting than before. Under the burning yellow eyes darken the semicircles of bruises, sharp cheekbones almost tear the thin earthy-pale skin. Long hair with icicles falls on the sunken cheeks and collar of the shirt with a dark stain on the chest. Bill scratched his fingernail and shrugged his shoulders, as if apologizing for his untidy. And then he smiles, and from this quasi-smile on the back of Dipper runs a big shiver.  
He exhales breathlessly and instinctively puts his hands out to protect himself from this nightmare, but he approaches, wobbling with his feet and smiling wider and wider with every uneven winding step.

"Someone must knooooow about him!" He draws mockingly and leads a bony hand in the air. "Who could it be, kid?" Do I really? Oh, really, it's me! - in the attic there is a sharp, coughing laugh.  
From the face of Dipper all the colors disappear - it becomes gray, like a dead man.  
"You came again ..." he squeezes after a long sigh.  
"I did not go away," Bill answered, as if nothing had happened, scratching some signs on his elongated palms. It amuses him - he starts laughing again. "I just waited for you to get bored and call me." I'm here, - his voice becomes deeper and more insinuating, - missed you, kid. Oh, how much I missed, but patiently waited until you took the first step to our touching reunion!  
The bed squeaks pitifully as he sits down next to Dipper and puts his hand on his shoulder in his own way.  
This touches the touch of frost to the very bones. He silently drops his vile hand and says nothing, hoping that Bill will leave without finding a response. But he does not go away.  
"And now, I see you need help," hisses over his ear, "and I'm the one who is ready to give it." You see, I know a lot about this city. Including the mysterious place where you, my little sweet friend, want to stick your curious nose. I heard your conversation, and that girl's right, you would not be prevented by a couple of valuable tips. And I can give them ... for a real trifle!  
"You will not get anything from me," Dipper says firmly. Bill is incorrigible - he again came to extort something from him, and apparently did not understand that there was nothing to catch him here. - Said - you can take everything for it and fail!  
"It's all the same rude and intractable," Bill whispers, almost gently, returning his hand to his former place, "but do not worry, I do not need your junk and the bestial cubs!" What I want in return, nothing at all! This, let's say, a small friendly service.  
\- No, - Dipper's face is written with firm determination and resistance. He takes his shoulder and embraces himself, stopping to touch again. "Go away, Bill."  
Outside the window a night bird screams shrilly; Bill clicks his teeth and groans wearily, echoing her lonesome cry.

"If I were you, I would have thought it over," he says after a long pause. "You are an incredibly stubborn and proud boy, I even like it, but now you should reconsider your views." The place you want to go is dirty, like a rotten swamp, but damn interesting, and admit, you'll never forgive yourself if you do not go there. You will hate yourself all your life and sadly regret the missed opportunity.

Bill says, and his words settle in the brain with a pungent grain, mixing with a heap of confused thoughts and doubts. His voice envelops Dipper with a network of hints and arguments - he flounder in it, like a fly in a skillfully spider web.  
Bill is able to convince, and Dipper surrenders under his insinuating onslaught.  
"What do you want in exchange for information?" - curiosity and obsession with mysteries overpower all doubts. Dipper knows that he will curse himself for this deal and for allowing Bill to manipulate himself again. But there is nothing he can do about it - he has no other source of knowledge, and, probably, is not expected.

... When Bill whispered in his ear his desire, he distorts his disgust at this insane perverted creature. But he still shakes his hand, binding their deal.  
Bill pulls his mouth in an anticipating smile and slowly lick it with the tip of a pale tongue.  
He again manages to bargain for something, and he does not even think to hide his joy.  
Dipper catches his happy smile and answers her with a look full of the most genuine dislike.


	5. Chapter 5

Before leaving, Dipper kisses the sleeping sister on the cheek, throws a backpack over his shoulders and leaves the hut with the first rays of the sun.  
He faces a difficult but interesting day.

Bill said that the forest anomaly is really directly connected with aliens. Under the ground, many feet deep, the fragments of a UFO are hidden - it fell not far from the plateau nearly three hundred years ago, when on the Gravity Falls site there was a bare plain.  
"A rift with a bridge - does not it remind you of anything?" You were looking at him, but what did you see? Just a strange gap? It's not like that, kid! The plate crashed into a giant rock and pierced through it, and then burned, but something remained. It is these fragments that create an anomaly. "  
Bill explained to Dipper how to find them, told about all the traps, tricks and traps. He gave him a detailed plan with all the details, and if not for the coming vile payback, Dipper would even thank him from the heart. But Bill asked for his price, and thoughts about it negated all good impulses.  
Dipper remembers his hissing, bubbling excitement demand, and it is twisted by a short cramp.  
The day is just beginning, and he is already uneasy, and not at all because something mysterious and dangerous awaits him in the forest.  
But soon, having penetrated into the abandoned ship of aliens, he forgets both about Bill and about what he should give.  
All that surrounds it under the ground is a long cherished dream. And the joy of its implementation eclipses extraneous experiences.

The sister is waiting for him in the hut and pounces with a question from the threshold.  
He pulls her into the attic and proudly throws his trophies on the bed: pictures, records, small things, secretly carried away in a backpack for study and for memory. He enthusiastically tells her his adventures, forgetting that he is hungry, covered with mud and bruises. The sandwiches brought by her are lonely drunk next to a pack of soothing. Dipper is not up to them - he needs so many to share, that it's the biggest foolishness to break off into food.  
"How did you know how to get there? - Sister asks, looking at him with burning eyes. - You asked the Brave Dan or his hangouts? So he came straight up and asked? You are a fearless guy, bro-bro! "  
"No, I ..." he stammers for a split second and muffled up an answer that is close to the truth, "one man told me." He knows those places ... very well. "  
The sister claps her hands, bothers him, asks him to explain why the aliens need "these glowing balls", and Dipper again forgets about Bill.  
But as soon as the hut is covered by a dark blue veil of twilight, he again begins to think about him.

The sister's bed is empty. She is having fun on spending the night with her friends. "I also need to tear myself away!" - She says before leaving. Asking her to stay home this night means to tell Bill about at least some hints and listen again that he is paranoid and "seems to him."  
The sister can not see Bill and does not even suspect that there are still some people living in the attic, apart from the two of them.  
Dipper wishes her a good time; when the door closes behind it, he sits on the edge of the bed and begins to wait.  
The wristwatch is barely audible, ticking off the minutes until nightfall.  
Dipper touches his quivering fingers on the dirty T-shirt and waits for Bill, not taking his eyes off the door of the old closet.  
He appears as soon as the edge of the bright moon touches the tops of the pines. His skinny, angular figure casts a broken shadow on the wall - she lags behind his swirling movements, as if she lives her own life.  
 "Oh, I see my advice helped our little researcher!" Returned alive and unscathed, look only! And how glad I am, it's difficult to imagine! - he says, clawing sharp teeth in the likeness of a friendly smile. "I suspect you've had a great time, have not you?" So how about a little gratitude?  
He smoothly sinks to the floor near Dipper's feet and puts his elbows on his knees. The moon throws an uneven light on his pale face - greedy impatience is read in every dash.  
Dipper winced as if from pain, when his wrists were touched by icy fingers and insinuatedly leading up the arm, tracing the blue lines of the veins. Bill breathes heavily and licks his thin lips - he is quite close, his sunken chest rubs against his knees, trying to dissolve them, the snake's hand creeps into the waistband and lies on the jeans belt.  
Yellow eyes burn with mad fire and bare thirst.  
Clear saliva bubbles in the corners of his mouth.  
Dipper takes a deep breath and stretches under the pillow.  
"Only quickly and a little, okay?" - he says, squeezing the handle of the penknife and making a deep incision under his left palm.

 

A fresh wound oozes with blood. Bill immediately presses his lips to her, pulling his nose a tart metal smell, touching the cut with his tongue, plunging it inside, licking each drop, savoring the warm spicy taste. His glowing eyes fade under the half-closed eyelids as he eagerly caresses the dark, fragrant liquid.  
Human blood leads him into ecstasy. He does not miss the smallest part of it - he drains his hand dry, sucks his sticky red fingers, takes them into his mouth to the very throat, and bites him hungrily, piercing his pads with needles.  
Dipper leans back, squeezes the blades into the wall and wants all this to end quickly, otherwise he will die of disgust.  
It's terrible to imagine how nauseating and eerie this picture looks from the side: a guy sprawled on the bed with a cut vein on his wrist and monster, insatiable drinking his blood.

"Enough! .." Dipper finally exclaims, pulling his hand out of his tenacious fingers. "Stop it!"

Bill growls unhappily and bites his nails into his legs. In his eyes, dangerous lights again light up - he looks at Dipper with a sly glance and finely licks his mouth, demanding continuation.  
\- It is not enough for me! Squeaks and hums sobbingly in silence. - Yet! I want more! You are insanely delicious, sweet and hot, and it seems to me that I'm beginning to like people ... Are you all like that? Or just you? .. - Bill spreads his knees and cuddles, leaving no space between them, no air - If only you, then I changed my mind! I will not like people, but you! ..  
From this recognition, Dipper almost turns inside out. A stuffy, viscous horror fills him from the inside, distorting his face with an ugly grimace. He covers his face with a severed hand, and heavy drops fall on the sleeve of the monster's dirty yellow shirt, frozen next to him in a puddle of faded moonlight.

"Now leave," he says, exhausted from his parched lips. Dipper can barely breathe, not what to say. Every word is given in his lungs by a deaf chatter of frozen air. "Go away, and never, do you hear, never again come back!" If you come here again, I'll find out a way to destroy you and do it!..  
He rises on his elbows and sits down, while Bill looks at him with a grim smile on his red lips.  
\- Yah? He raises an eyebrow and squintes, piercing Dipper with a mocking stare. "And what will you do to me, kid?" How are you going to destroy me, if you do not even know who I am? .. - the heart misses one blow, and Bill screams, screaming with a hand a deep scratch just below the clavicles sticking out under the skin.  
The knife in Dipper's hand is trembling; he heavily takes a breath and watches without a wink as Bill hisses and writhes on the floor, gritting his teeth in pain.  
\- You still regret it! ..  
"Go away and do not come back!"

The moon disappears behind the pines, and the attic becomes dark. The outstretched figure of Bill dissolves in the black color of the impenetrable night, and the more terrifying is from his wandering, crazy look.  
"I'll leave," a painful whisper is heard before the closet door closes with a loud clap, "but the day will come when you will beg me to return!" And believe me, it will happen sooner than you think! ..

... Dipper stretches to atarax and drinks half the pack at once.  
The rest of the night he dreams of an endless nightmare where Bill again gets out of the closet, climbs into his bed and devours him alive, tearing off the big bloody pieces from his body. And then, with one sharp movement, raises his hips, and something huge and hard tears him apart, causing a wild maddening pain.  
Dipper screams and wants to wake up, but he can not.  
Atarax flawlessly does its job, locking it in the cage of a sound sleepless sleep for almost an eternity.


	6. Chapter 6

Blood. Blood is everywhere.   
B l o o d i s e v e r y w h e r e.  
The floor, the walls, the window glass, everything is filled with red and exudes a strong tart smell, clogging the nose.

On the next bed spreads a huge sticky puddle, soaking a pillow and a mottled blanket. Heavy drops seep through the mattress and fall down, gathering in scarlet lakes with black clots, like tadpoles.  
Sister are nowhere to be found. Her favorite sweater with a star mocks rosy with a ragged sleeve in the midst of a bloody horror.  
Dipper jumps up, feeling that his heart is about to jump out of his chest. A creek of crawling creeps slowly across the spine, scattering over the damp cold skin.  
Before my eyes floating turbid red spots.  
He yells passionately, calling his sister, but does not hear the answer.  
In the attic there is no rustle, and in this dead silence his cry sounds so distinctly and loudly that it tears the eardrums into tatters.

Blood is everywhere.   
B l o o d i s e v e r y w h e r e.  
Blood falls from the ceiling, pours from every crevice, protrudes on the plank walls.  
Blood flows from his eyes, leaving a long steady stream on his cheeks.  
The dipper chokes it to nausea, and cries, cries, until it begins to dry under the centuries.  
"Shhhh", - is heard from somewhere below. Blood trickles slowly flock to the middle of the room, freeze by the boundless hot ocean; he trembles, smeared on the floor with a shapeless blob.  
From there a light top is shown, and after that - a pale face with burning yellow eyes.  
"She does not hear. She will not come. It will never, never, ever ... "  
Bill, half buried in a bloody lake, draws his long arms toward him and almost wipes traces of red tears from his face.  
"But do not be afraid. I'm with you. I will always be with you…"  
Dipper is screaming horror ... and waking up.

His sister is sitting on the bed and combing her hair. She is all right. She is alive and unharmed.  
Dipper slowly traces his face with wet hands and rushes to her, stammering about the things scattered on the floor.  
"Swear that you will be all right! He whispers hotly and incoherently, embracing her. "Please tell me this!"  
The sister hugs him in return; the comb falls out of her hand and is lost in the folds of the blanket, flashing in the sun with a sparkling handle.  
"Hey, Dipper, are you ok?" Did you have a nightmare again? Well, stop, bro-bro, everything's fine! It was just a dream! What can happen to me? "  
"Tell me this," he repeats again, breathing heavily into the curve of her neck and sweating with a cold sweat.  
"Everything will be fine with me," she says confidently, stroking his head. - I promise. »  
He exhales and calms down. Sister the only one he unconditionally trusts. She never lied to him, she does not lie even now.  
Everything will be all right.  
He has nothing to fear.

 

The rest of the summer, the four short weeks of August, fly quickly like wings. Dipper barely has time to tear off the pages from the wall-mounted numerator. Already very soon, he and his sister will leave Gravity Falls, and for the first time in his life he is happy to be back in California.  
There will not be Bill. There, at home, the nightmare that turned into two months of his life will end.

Looking at the pasted mirror in the bathroom, Dipper does not recognize his own reflection. A tortured stranger with deep shadows under his eyes and a grayish complexion is not at all like a ruddy, health-blossoming boy, as he came here in June. Prudyad says that this is all from reading and sleepless nights, and, as always, he considers himself absolutely right.  
Dipper listens to his reasoning about the dangers of books and the Internet and grins - if he knew what really is the cause of his insomnia. If I had seen those dreams that he dreams about every night, when a sedative makes him close his eyes.  
He would have gone mad.  
They would all go mad.  
"Hurry back home," he says to his sister. She shrugs her shoulders and looks at him in amazement over the striped pink glasses.  
"Before, you did not want to leave here ..."  
"Now I want to," he replies, and casts a brief glance at the darkening cupboard in the corner, where his worst nightmare is hiding.

Before their departure, there is a week when the sister announces to him that she goes with her friends to a forest picnic in the evening.  
"I would take you with me, Dipper," she says in an apologetic tone, throwing in the backpack colorful magazines and a large pack of marshmallow - but there will be some girls, you understand? .. "  
"Well, yes," he snorts, running off a slight insult, "talking about guys, popular bands and all sorts of girls' nonsense. I see. And where are you going? "  
"To the lake. Do you remember the clearing that we found last year, when we were hiding from the princess? It is very cozy and great for picnics! Hey, - the sister carefully touches his shoulder and looks into his eyes, - are you sure you are not offended that I can not take you with me? "  
He answers her with a carefree smile.  
"Precisely. Absolutely. Have fun there, as it should, and do not forget to call, if that! "  
"Yay! She exclaims joyfully and runs out the door, pulling on her sweater as she goes. "Do not be bored, Dipper!" I'll bring you some marshmallows! "  
In the open window you can hear her screaming something pridead, and how he grumbles to her in response, sipping a soda on the porch of the hut.  
Dipper lights the lantern near the bed, reveals the missed detective and is already beginning to miss her.

 

... The phone call makes him postpone the book and smile - surely the sister decided to share with him some super-important news: to say that she saw a deer in the forest or to lay out some "terrible secret" of one of her best friends. He reaches for the sobering pipe and almost hears a muffled whisper: "Bro-bro, I'll tell you this now that you will die!", But instead of her sister's number she sees unfamiliar figures on the screen.  
In the breast it is scratched. Under the ribs slowly begins to grow a premonition of something bad.  
The phone rings; Dipper does not take his gaze from it, mentally counting to ten.  
He never answers calls from unknown numbers, but this time he presses the green button for some reason.

From the phone can be heard creaking and a sound like a white noise, and then through it penetrates the thin voice of Candy - one of the girls' company.  
"Hello, Dipper," she says, "Mabel at home?" Can you give her a phone? "  
He freezes with the phone near his ear and blinks uncomprehendingly.  
Mabel are not at home, he knows for sure. Now it turns out that on a picnic too.  
"It's not there," he replies, feeling a growing alarm. "She left you an hour ago."  
In the phone they gasp; It seems to Dipper that Candy's breath is burning his temple.  
"But we do not even have it ... - in the background he can hear small voices: Grenda and Pacifica. The girls say something, interrupting each other, but he can not make out a word. This is not necessary - what is at issue is not understood unless the idiot. "We agreed to get together at nine in a clearing for picnics, all here except ... Mabel." We thought that something had happened to her, and she could not come, so, - Candy part and gets lost, - decided to call, but her phone is off, and then I dialed you ... Dipper! Dipper! .. "

Blood.   
Blood is everywhere.   
B l o o d i s e v e r y w h e r e.  
His fingers become icy - horror creeps through the body, dampening every cell. It seems that he was buried in a snowdrift in the middle of the night forest, and he knows that he is doomed to freeze to death.  
My sister promised that nothing would happen to her.  
She promised.  
S h e l i e d.  
"Candy," he can hardly turn his tongue, swallowing bitter saliva, "stay there!" I will be soon! Just do not go anywhere, do you hear? .. "  
The receiver answers it with long beeps.

"Where are you going to spend the night looking, guy?" - the grankle turns to the noise from the stairs and looks suspiciously at Dipper from under the bushy eyebrows. Laughter and applause come from the TV; he watches a humorous channel, and someone else's fun seems to Dipper mockery at his fear for his sister.  
"Mabel has disappeared," he says with his baked lips and almost cries for fear and alarm.

... A few minutes later they both leave the shack and go towards the forest, which is rapidly darkening before midnight.  
The girls are waiting for them in a clearing for picnics near the cheerfully flaming fire. Around him in disorder are lying some magazines, packs of marshmallows and banks of soda.

"She's still not ..." Candy sobs and pulls the edge of the sweater to her knees. Grenda and Pacifica hug her from two sides and stroked her shoulders, shaking with tears. They are scared no less than her, but they try to remain calm, although they get out of control badly.  
When the girls see Dipper, the three of them begin to cry in the voice.  
They predictably do not know anything and re-release the information already known to him: Mabel did not come to the meeting, her phone is off, they are waiting for her in the clearing for a couple of hours. He tries to get his sister and hears a metallic voice in the phone: "The subscriber's device is turned off or is out of the network coverage."  
A shiver runs through my nerves. Dipper, without looking, puts the phone in the pocket of his jeans and settles heavily on the cold ground.  
Before the sister never turned off the mobile when she went for a walk and always wore a spare battery in the backpack - the love of communication made her constantly in touch.  
Something r e a l l y happened to her.

He is braked by the shoulder and says something; girls sob and loom before their eyes - their mouths open and close, like fish pulled out to the air.  
Dipper is far from here. Reality loses outlines and sounds; He is surrounded by a vacuum, where he suffocates alone with his loss.

When the grankle takes control of the situation in his hands and invites everyone to separate, he stupidly and silently follows him into the dark depths of the forest, illuminated by a white beam of a flashlight. A few feet later, it breaks out - the vacuum disappears, and the world around gets almost painful clarity. A wave of fear for the sister and a sense of total loneliness seizes him with his head - in his chest begins unbearably whining, giving off a perceptible pain under his left shoulder blade.  
He runs forward, stumbling over the roots of the trees, groping his way through the darkness that smells of needles and humus and shouts: "Mabel! Mabel! ", Peering at every shadow and listening to every rustle.  
Grankle wheezes and curses, following him step by step. On the edge of it they diverge, and the loud "Mable", long echoes from different sides of the hushed night forest.  
They gather in the clearing after a few hours. They sit down in a circle near the extinguished fire and silently look at the black cooled coals and the white-pink marshmallow scattered on the grass and half mashed by mice.  
Mabel is nowhere to be found.

In the morning, the grankle hangs on the door of the hut a sign "Closed" and shamelessly escorts everyone who enters the threshold. The girls are sitting on the old couch, cuddling close to each other - no one goes home. Dipper nervously presses on the buttons of two phones and calls the police.  
"I lost my sister," he says as hard and calmly as possible in response to the dry "I'm listening to you." Scrupulously and in detail retells the events of the last evening, shares his assumptions, but his words are ignored. At the other end of the line, chewing gum and loudly sipping coffee, reacting to his speech inarticulate "yeah".  
"Listen, guy," something coherent finally comes out, "your sister disappeared last night. Last night, you know? By law, you can apply for a search in only three days. Do not panic ahead of time - suddenly she went to her friend or went to ride with her boyfriend? In Newport now is the summer fair, did not you try to look for it there? "  
"All her friends," says Dipper, trying not to break off, "are sitting in this room, but she does not have a boyfriend! Otherwise I would have known about this! "  
"Maybe she does not tell you everything? Listen, I'm serious, wait until tomorrow, at least. Judge for yourself: we raise the task force, give announcements on all sites, attract TV, and your sister returns with full pockets of gifts and, as if nothing had happened, sits down to watch a reality show while a lot of guys and two helicopters are looking for her. Do you think your case is special? No matter how it is, if we search every girl who decides to take a walk away from home, we would just look for them. "  
"It's illegal!" - the knuckles of the fingers turn white and hurt when Dipper clamps the handset hard. A little more, and he will explode, but he understands that this can not be done, even when I really want to say to some indifferent goat everything that he thinks about him.  
"It's legal, guy," - at the other end of the line a loud bubble bursts from the chewing gum, and Dipper shakes out without even saying goodbye.

The telephone receiver falls with a crash on the levers, and he starts walking around the room, playing with jaggies and kicking everything that comes to his eyes.  
"What did they tell you?" - the grankle comes out of the kitchen with five mugs of tea on a cutting board. He gives out tea to the girls - they take dishwashing utensils with fresh tea leaves, but do not take a sip. Candy is still crying - Grenda comforts her, awkwardly stroking her hair with a large short fingered hand. Pacifica sits on the edge of the couch, stretched out in a string. Her head is down, her hands are clenched on tight knees.  
"Piss off," snaps Dipper, and the grankle shakes her head knowingly.  
"Ah, well, that's okay," he snorts. "He always said that it was the last thing to contact the police." While there these assholes will raise their lazy ass ... In short, we will manage on our own. Let's tie up a couple more people, and ... "  
"My dad has a lot of money and connections," Pacifica climbs into the jacket pocket and takes out an luxury phone, pasted with false diamonds. Her voice trembles, like her fingers, when she dials her father's number and goes to the next room to talk to him.  
In a few of minutes she comes back - without a blood in her face and with a bitten lower lip.  
"People from dad will be here in a few of hours," - all breathe out with relief. Pasifika presses Mabel the toy unicorn to her chest and cries, finally allowing herself to not keep her face.

A search party from Preston Northwest arrives in the afternoon; The living room of the hut is occupied by a dozen young people with dogs and the latest technology. They ask the girls and Dipper, ask for a picture of Mabel and something from her personal belongings.  
A large sheep dog sniffs an orange sweater for a long time with an embroidered watermelon slice and bark softly. From the corner a thin squeak of a laptop is heard - information about the missing is sent to all police stations in the state.  
After questioning everyone again, the young men go into the forest, promising every hour to report the results of the searches.  
Dipper does not release a mobile phone from his hands and flinches from every call - the same is done by everyone else. The grankle orders pizza, but no one can eat a piece.  
Candy is constantly crying - now in an embrace with Pacifica. She looks terrible, but she does not care.

By evening it becomes clear that the search is threatening to prove hopeless.  
From the police comes information: the girl with the indicated signs have not seen in any of the cities of the state; nobody with the name Mabel Pines did not leave his limits and did not register at the train stations and hotels.  
In the forest, too, clean. The search party returns to the night with cheerless news: combing the forest, the lake, the plateau, the fields behind the farms and the whole city, they did not find any trace of the girl.  
She seemed to have sunk into the water.

The shack is covered with despair. Everyone feels like at a funeral with a missing girl instead of a dead man.  
"You need to call your parents ..." says the grankle, wiping her face with trembling hands. "What will I tell them ... What?"  
Dipper hugs him, and they silently froze in each other's arms. On the bristles overgrown with bristles, tears flow in his pride - in his seventy-odd he cries like a child.

The next day he goes on a quest with the people of Northwest. Dipper breaks to go with them, but grankle tells him to stay in the shack suddenly Mabel will return herself.  
He does not find a place: rises to the attic, wanders through the rooms, looks into the cupboards and under the beds. It's nervous - Dipper knows perfectly well that the sisters are not there, but can not bring himself to sit still. The twin's intuition tells him that Mabel is alive, and that's a little calming, but not too long. His fingers ache from the endless crunching of the joints, his eyes pinching with tears and insomnia.  
The sister does not return.  
In the evening he again has to answer questions: could Mabel suddenly go to relatives or friends, what she said before leaving, what she took with herself, whether she quarreled with someone, or whether she had any plans.  
He responds clearly and in detail - the same words are almost stuck to the language, like the remnants of bitter, tasteless food.  
"We can file requests to neighboring states," says one of the detectives, "but it's not likely to help. It feels like this girl never existed. No trace, no clue. But we will continue to search, although ... "he sighs and looks at Dipper with a tired look," it seems to be pointless. "  
Grankle sits in a chair with a gray face and swallows some pills.  
Despair, reigning in the hut, becomes almost tangible.

"Never existed ... What are they saying ?!"  
Dipper sits in the attic, clasping his hands with a droning head. Around too many sister: her things, magazines, simple cosmetics, toys, candy wrappers. In the dusty air there is her smell - the sweet aroma of strawberry chewing gum and deodorant. Everywhere shiny stickers and funny notes. From under the bed stick out pink sneakers with crumpled socks inside.  
He closes his eyes, and remembers her face, like two drops of water similar to his own.  
Mabel always smiled. She never had a bad mood and she until the last believed in the best, finding a way out of the most difficult situations.  
He needs to take an example from her. To be the same as she and not give up, even when everything around is saying that there is no way out.  
"She could not disappear without a trace, she could not, it's impossible! Just have to look better! "- he loudly exclaims, and hears behind a hoarse cough.

The grankle sits next to him and presses to her, launching wrinkled fingers into his hair.  
"They are looking well, small, so you can believe me. Mabel is nowhere to be found, and you know what? Never believed in all the devilry, but now I think that this is it ... - after a loud sigh his voice becomes deaf and lifeless - and I still do not know how to tell all this to your parents ... I do not know. I think it will be easier for me to die than ... but to hell with everything ... "  
Dipper understands that grankle surrenders, but he does not intend to surrender.  
He's willing to do anything to get his sister back.  
He will do everything possible and impossible, but find it.  
"There is still something ... some hope!"

... The door of the old cupboard creaks behind him and opens to the palm of his hand.


	7. Chapter 7

"Don't look."  
Dipper lies on top of a crumpled blanket: his hands are folded under his head, his eyes gaze unblinkingly at the dark ceiling beam with smeared spots of moisture. Near the right ear is heard an indistinct monotonous rumble - termites gnaw through the old wood of the wall, piercing it with long twisting passages. Under the bed something scratches and rustles - probably in the attic there are mice.

"Don't look."  
He carefully keeps his eyes on the ceiling, sometimes distracted by the tightly fitted wood of the roof and a transparent cobweb in the dark corners. The oblique rays of the sun cross the space with long arrows, as piercingly yellow as s o m e o n e's eyes.  
"Don't look."  
At the top slowly blur black spots, and he covers his eyelids to again open them to the limit and staring at the ceiling beam, covered with cracks and stains.  
This beam is the only thing it allows itself to focus on.  
He can not look at an empty sister's bed and a dark wardrobe in the corner.

Until the end of August there are three days, and for the first time Dipper does not wait for his birthday.  
T h e i r birthday.  
Without his sister, he loses his meaning - only she made this day festive and cheerful and turned it into an event that you could remember all year and smile.  
She's not here. Still no.

In the morning, the parents of Pacifica come; Dipper hears them screaming at her through the noise of the car's engine and how she's crying aloud, bitterly, sobbing, trying to break free from their hands and begging to let her stay.  
In the courtyard of the hut, there are slapping sounds and a loud clatter of heels.

"I'm wasting my money," says Preston Northwest, " Mabel will not be found." I see no reason to continue - if she died, her body will sooner or later be discovered by the police, is not it, Mr. Pines? "  
Dipper hears how the princess sends him to the devil and advises him to put his money where it's dark and stink of shit.  
Preston silently leaves the house with his detectives. He can not take his daughter.

In the afternoon, mayor Cutebiker arrives and squeaks something comforting, while princess rattles with bottles of drinks and strains coughing. They talk for a long time in the living room; In parting, Cutebiker begs for a T-shirt and promises to "do everything possible to find our little Star."  
Dipper hears how the princess curses hoarsely and asks: "Why did not you, devil, offer this earlier? What has changed now? I wanted to feel like a hero when everything is already useless, right? "  
Then he sits heavily in a crooked chair and drinks straight from the neck, noisily moving his Adam's apple and shedding brown drops of whiskey on his worn out shirt.  
Dipper can hear it all. And Dipper hates them all.  
Everyone to one.  
They surrendered and lowered their hands. And he does not.  
He will seek his sister to the last.

Dipper alone goes to the forest and wanders there, shouting "Mabel! Mabel! "And crouching to the ground in the hope of finding at least some traces. He realizes that this is in vain, but the mad hope forces him to go further, noting all the unusual in the wooded scenery that is full of mischief.

In the hut, he returns late at night - at the limit of fatigue and despair.  
There it is unusually quiet: there are no detectives, no dogs, no laptops and no phones are ringing.  
The girls froze on the couch like statues: under the eyes of Candy the shadows lay, the face of Pacifica swelled from sobbing.  
She could finally cry, over Mabel and over her whole life.  
The grankle still sits in an armchair and drinks - on his bristly cheeks pale death pours.  
"That's all, guy," he says, meeting Dipper's eyes. - that's all."  
Depressing atmosphere presses: Dipper closes his eyes, drops his shoulders under her weight and slowly passes through the living room to the stairs to the attic. Steps groaning and crackling under his feet.  
At the top is piercing cold, despite the still hot summer heat. Dipper shivering chilly and falls exhausted right to the floor, pressing against the thorny wall.

They say it's over.  
They are sure that there is no hope.  
But he knows that this is not so.

On the floor and walls of the attic lie the dying rays of the sun - orange pink, like a sunset descending to the hut and pines. Before nightfall, there remain several hours.  
A hundred and a half minutes before he had to do what he had been trying not to think about until the last.  
To turn to Bill means to sign your own weakness. Again, go on about a nasty monster, trusting him with the life of the closest and dearest person, means to show that he needs it.  
But there is no other way out.

Dipper hears girls crying downstairs, as a TV mumbles a summary of the latest news, how loudly the prasada coughs, bursting into a drink.  
Dipper hears how his heart beats loudly, without getting in time with convulsive heavy breathing.  
Dipper hears how his sister's weak voice sounds in his head - she calls for help, and he is obliged to help her.  
Even if for the sake of it is necessary to do something terrible and irreparable.

Each time, Bill's requests became more monstrous, and Dipper suspects - no, he knows! - that the price of this transaction will be prohibitive. But he is ready to pay it.  
For the sake of Mabel. For the sake of pratyadi. For them all.

He sits on the floor, crumples the edge of a sweaty T-shirt and looks at the old closet, mockingly flashing a glare at him on a round metal handle.  
When he realizes that it's time, then slowly, stretching every step, comes to him and knocks in a scratch-covered door.  
No sound is heard from the inside.  
He knocks again - more insistently, more accurately, but no one answers it.  
Desperation grasps grabbed him by the neck, blocking the oxygen.

 

Knock - knock. Knock - knock. Knock - knock.  
Silence in return.  
"Bill, I know you're there. Answer me."  
Knock - knock. Knock - knock. Knock - knock.  
Silence.  
"Bill, I need ... to talk to you."  
Knock - knock. Knock - knock. Knock - knock.  
"Bill, please."  
Knock - knock...  
"Bill, please!"  
It's quiet in the closet.  
The darkness outside the window spreads like a viscous black slob. A shaggy pine branch scraped the glass like the paw of some unknown monster. It looks at him from that direction and sneers, blinking the round eye of the yellow moon.  
"I took her," the midnight wind howls in the howl, "Come on, kid, try to take your sister away from me!"

"Bill, please!"  
Dipper frantically strikes the cabinet with his fists, chokes with tears and suffocates from a slimy coma in his throat. Desperation tears him to shreds, crushes and suffocates; he falls to his knees, never stop knocking his fists on the dry creaking door and screaming - so loudly that his own voice painfully hits the ears.  
\- Bill !!!  
He knocks in the closet until the palms and knuckles of the fingers start to sulk and bleed.  
When he no longer has the strength to do anything, he falls on the plank floor and howls in frustration.  
"And I said that the day will come when you will beg me," he whispered in his head, intertwined with the convolutions of a tired brain.

... Bill stands over him, folding his arms over his chest and grins, tapping on the floor with the heel of a worn boot.  
He enjoys his victory - Dipper looks up and meets his yellow eyes on the proud face of the triumphant.  
He struggles to get up - he can not afford to lie at the feet of this monster. Now they are almost the same: Dipper's crown rests against a sharp, thin shoulder, the downed fingers touch the narrow, cold palms.

"Mmm," Bill draws his nose and squints, "I can smell the desperation ... Do you know what he looks like?" To champagne - it also tickles the nostrils inside, like these small bubble-bubbles. Such stupid! - He laughs, tugging his neck and circling in place, portraying some strange dance. - Such stuuuupid! And why are not you laughing? - Insane laughter abruptly breaks off, and Dipper senses on his cheek a demanding touch, from which he gropes with trembling. "Oh, yes, I see that you do not feel like laughing, but it's all the more interesting, is not it?"  
Bill's fingers crawl over the skin, touch the disheveled curls of hair near the ear, grease large drops of salty tears. Dipper can not move - he stands holding his breath and shaking at the bending legs, taking this torture by touching.  
Bill purposely stretches it, going down to the bare neck over the collar of the T-shirt and limp shoulders and feels, touches, tickles, not ceasing to pull his lips in a crooked grin.  
They both are silent: one is submissive - frightened, the other expectantly. The slightly open cabinet door swings back and forth, breaking the stagnant silence with a lingering creak.

 

"I lost my sister," Dipper says at last, barely moving his lips.  
"Oh," Bill throws up his hands in a startled, tragic gesture, "the girl from the next-bed left us?" How sad it is, I would even cry, kid, if I could! - in his brightly burning eyes splashing laughter, and Dipper perfectly knows that he does not mourn, but on the contrary, he mocks him. - And what do you suggest? Arrange an evening of memories or together sink over a heavy loss? You're ... - he says quietly, very close to his ear, - that's why he called me?  
"Bill ..." Dipper's voice breaks; he often and nervously breathes, trying to pick up the right words, while the vile monster is extinguished and breaks near to him a cruel comedy. He already regrets that he called him, hates himself for having to ask for help, but his sister's life is more important to him than anything else. "Help me find her." You are welcome.  
"Wow, what do I hear!" - Bill freezes on the spot and gazes intently at his face, raising his eyebrows so that they disappear under the tangled locks of hair over his forehead. - Help me! Please! And who is telling me this? Is not that the guy that rewarded me with this?  
He bows his head to the right shoulder and pokes his finger in the hole on the yellow shirt, where Dipper can see a short thick scar with purple edges. "You know how it hurt me, huh?" Sooo hurt, even more painful than you are now, and you think that I will again rush to help? I laugh at your naivety, kid!  
Pushing Dipper away, Bill laughs wildly into the middle of the attic, grabs the sister's toys and throws him up, tearing his joint fingers apart on the fly.  
Slowly, scraps of cloth and pieces of padding settle down on the floor - he walks them away with a long glance and laughs even louder.  
"You're as stupid as these bubbles of despair!" And there are more and more of them, right? - he poured, and Dipper stands still and is silent, as if he was glued from head to foot or turned into a graven image. He watches a pile of spoiled toys grow on the floor, watching Bill dance and curl and can not stop him.  
While there is at least a tiny hope that everything will change, it can not be maligned. You can not do things that can make him angry.  
Bill is a crazy evil monster, but he needs him.

Dipper observes his crookedness and tries to understand how he treats him. Sister's disappearance seems to have pulled out of him all the feelings and emotions, leaving one aching emptiness.  
After a few moments, he understands as to the medicine. A vile, bitter, disgusting medicine that needs to be taken through strength to recover.  
Because nothing else is able to help.

"I'll give you everything you want," Dipper confidently says, fully and completely answering for his words, "everything I can get for you. Please, help me, Bill."  
He ceases to frenzy and turns his head towards him with interest. By stretched almost to the ears, the tip of the tongue moves slowly, like a predator, ready to eat a trapped prey.  
Bill steps in a couple of steps towards Dipper, walks him from behind and presses himself with his whole body, winds around like an octopus, breathes into his hair, leads his lips behind his ear, touching a soft lobe.  
"My sweet little friend knows how to find the key to my heart!" Such a flattering offer - how can I refuse it? .. You say, "he whispered in a snake's way, panting the skin with a heavy cold breath," anything? " I'm lost in choice, kid. What do I want ... What, what, what, what ... - Bill slowly pulls every word, biting his lips. "Oh, what a misfortune - I don't know!" Let me think, hmmm?  
Dipper jerks, trying to shake off his nasty hands together with their touches, sniffling and nodding his head. He will have to give Bill time to think, otherwise he can refuse the deal.  
The only thing he asks is not to drag for too long. Every minute is precious, and the sooner Bill executes his part of the treaty, the better it will be for everyone.  
And for him, too. E s p e c i a l l y for him.  
Bill realizes this and lets Dipper out, finally running his hand over his swollen spine.

"Don't even try to deceive me, kid," he says goodbye, "do not even think about it, otherwise it will only get worse!" For all, "he adds with meaning, and looks at him as if he wants to burn him through.  
"I will not deceive you." Find my sister, Bill, and take whatever you want.  
\- All I want! - heard through a shrill laughter - oh yes, all that I want!

... After a moment his tall, ungainly figure breaks up into many small pieces and melts in the dim light of the moon - the yellow eye of an invisible monster that lurks outside the window.  
Dipper meets his eye and only now understands w h a t he did.


	8. Chapter 8

At dawn, when the sun is barely visible from behind the pines, Stanley goes out onto the porch of the shack and almost falls, stumbling over something soft.

"Mabel! Damn hell, Mabel !!! "

She lies near the door: her sweater is torn and covered with stains, her face and hands are smeared with dried up dirt, her hair is scattered in disorder along her shoulders - stuck dry leaves and twigs. On the right leg creeps the mocric, grankle sheds it and crushes, leaving on the porch a small slimy puddle.  
"Yes really ... How so ..."  
He lifts her into his arms and walks into the shack with a shaky uneven gait - tears run down his cheeks, and his knees trembling and twitching. Gently putting her niece on the couch, he reaches for the bottle of whiskey and drains it for a quarter with one sip.  
"Mabel ... Mabel ..."  
He does not believe his eyes and often blinks, but it's true: the girl is lying on the couch in the living room and is fast asleep. On a thin wrist, the pulse pulses smoothly, the forehead is dry and cool. The chest gently raises itself from the calm breathing.  
She is all right. She is alive. She returned home.  
He covers her with a blanket and kisses her temple before hurrying upstairs and telling Dipper that his sister was found.

 

In the morning there is a stir in the shack. Mabel is still asleep; she is taken to a rest room and comfortably arranged on a wide couch, covered with an orange veil. Weeping, now with joy, the girls bring colorful pads, toys and flowers to her friend to sleep "like a real princess." She is not bothered, but when Pacifica flies into the hut, and, pushing everyone out of the way, rushes to the sleeping one, no one can stop her. She sits down next to him, takes Mabel by the hand and does not let out until the doctor called from the city clinic arrives.

"The girl is in a consistently satisfactory state," he says, removing rubber gloves after the examination, "there are no visible injuries, but I strongly advise you to take her to the clinic for a full examination. When she comes to, of course. "  
"Why does not she wake up?"  
"It happens when a person has experienced a severe shock or nervous shock. The organism either goes into an imaginary coma, or disconnects parts of the brain, provoking amnesia. Therefore, I insist on a thorough examination. So far, I've given her a couple of injections; she'll sleep for a while, but then, "he corrects his glasses and looks at everyone with a serious look," please do not ask her any questions. " The girl suffered a lot of stress, so ... I think you understand everything. She will talk to you when she is ready for it. "  
He is accompanied with gratitude. Stan tries to put a few dollars in his pocket, but the doctor shakes his head and hurries away.  
Pacifica orders all the pizza, and this time there is not a crumb left from it.

Dipper does not leave his sister almost a single step. He hastily pushes a piece of pizza and returns to Mabel again.  
Her face is calmly. Eyelashes slightly tremble in the dream, the mouth is slightly opened, the arms are folded on the chest; he notices on the backs of the palms the scattering of small scratches and painfully frowns.  
He does not even want to think for a moment that Bill could have done something to her.  
Just like that, for fun. Or in revenge.  
One random thought about this causes Dipper the rage and disgust, but if you imagine that ...  
"Do not represent."  
But the flushed paranoia as if to spite throws him a whole string of creepy images.  
"The doctor said she's fine!"  
"He could do it unnoticed. Bill is not a man, he does not need to use force to hurt. "  
"She was scratched when she made her way through the bush ..."  
"He took revenge on her for what you did to him! .."  
Dipper tries to level out his breath and clench his fists, glaring hard at the dark corner of the room.  
If Bill did something to her, if he touched her with at least a finger ...

He's like pushing in the back. In the eyes of darkens, ears pawns, as in the depths - Dipper swaying and falls into a black abyss, like a huge toothless mouth.  
"Ha-ha-ha," hears softly from somewhere below and picks up the frost from his toes to the roots of his hair, "why do I need a worthless girl when I have something better?" Something more semi-successful! "

"Dipper!" - someone touches his shoulder, and he loudly screams, sharply jerking his head.  
"Are you ok?" - it says Pacifica. She sits down next to her and looks at him anxiously, frowning at her thin brows.  
His "yes" sounds unconvincing, and Dipper himself knows about it.  
"You look awful. You need to rest."  
"No! He exclaims, frightened and aroused. "I'm fine, I just need coffee, yes, for sure, I would not be disturbed by a cup of hot coffee, Paci, and I'll be fine, honestly, in perfect order!"  
He parted like a cocked and clings to the edge of an orange veil, refusing to make a step out of the rest room.  
He can not get out of here. He can not go upstairs.  
Because there, - he realizes, covered with drops of ice sweat, - he is already waiting.

 

... In a triangular window looks a timid, translucent moon, protruding from a pile of clouds in the twilight sky.  
The door of the cabinet creaks, releasing the monster out in a human form.  
He jerks and dances in the unsteady moonlight, goes out into the middle of the attic and freezes, stretching out long, bony hands.  
His yellow eyes flicker dimly on his earthy gray face.  
The big mouth twists in an emphatically welcoming grin, behind which lies the danger.  
The monster is waiting.  
And already begins to lose patience.

 

Pacifica does not believe a single word of it. He glances at the white face as chalk, deep shadows under the lower eyelids, trembling cyanotic lips and an Adam's apple that tightens his skin, which convulsively twitches from every ragged sigh.  
She does not like all this very much.  
"Lie down, Dipper." She takes him by the elbow and persistently takes her out of the room, ignoring all the protests and objections. "I'll call you when Mabel wakes up."  
"Paci, but I'm really all right!" - the door slams shut, and he remains alone with a corridor drowning in the dark and inevitable.  
Behind her, the lock snaps softly; Heels Pasichiki knock out a smooth, moving fraction on the floor.  
The light bulbs flashing under the ceiling hit the eyes with short white flashes.  
The staircase to the attic is bristling with an uneven row of creaky steps.  
He turns around, presses his forehead against the door, and slowly walks along it with his fingertips, putting in his gesture all his desperation and the emerging horror of what awaits him.  
"Something half-hearted!" - laughs in my head, with a crisp background lying on top of a picture with an ugly dance in a spot of moonlight, the remains of a toy on the floor and invisible blood smears on thin, grinning lips

The backlight of the wristwatch illuminates his face with a deadly whitish light - the electronic digits, cracked with cracks, show the beginning of the first.  
It's time for him to go.  
Bill is waiting for him.  
Even here he hears Bill's uneven bouncing steps, measuring the square space of the attic with the triangle of the window inscribed in it. He almost sees his eyes blazing with anticipation, and how he is anticipating rubbing his vile hands.  
We need to get it over with, give him what he wants and forget about him.  
My sister will be all right. She wakes up, she will be examined by the doctors, they will go home and never again will remember this nightmare.  
So Dipper thinks, taking the first step into the black tunnel of the empty corridor.

Knock - knock.  
His heart is beating like a dying man, fast and torn when he turns the tight handle of the attic door.  
Knock - knock…  
He takes a step forward, closing his eyes, as if before diving to the depth.  
Or falling into the abyss.  
... When he opens them again, he sees before him a glowing yellow fire and a wide smile.

 

Bill emerges, as if from under the ground and embraces his face with austere slippery hands.  
\- That's right! - He exclaims, not hiding the joy in his voice. "Happy brother came to pay the bill?" It's dirty! How's Annie? No, no, no ... Mabel! Of course, Mabel! - its provoking mockery is no longer disgusting. They scare, and the more Bill scoffs, the worse it becomes. "Well, how is she?" Uhm?  
Dipper opens his mouth, and then pokes his lips in someone else's open hand, not having time to say a word. But this is not necessary - the question of the state of the sister is just another way to hurt him for a living.  
Bill does not care about Mabel - he has fulfilled his part of the deal and now wants to get something in return, but for some reason it's delaying the moment of reckoning. His hand gently presses against the half-opened boy's mouth, preventing talking and breathing, fingers digging into his cheeks, heavy breathing clogged in his nostrils sweetish tart flavor. Bill studies his face inquisitively, tracing every line, burning yellow eyes and licks his thin lips - for a moment Dipper thinks he wants to bite off his head or swallow it whole, like a boa constrictor.  
But it's too easy. Too fast. Too unprivileged for this crazy monster.  
Dipper is no longer disgusting. He is mortally afraid. Fear reaches its limit, opens out with an emetic spasm, protrudes on the skin with large drops of sweat, drains down with long, cold streams.  
He stands and does not move, mentally begging Bill to say that he needs and stop this torture by touching.

"Bill, tell me what you want from me," he finally asks aloud, overcoming the piercing horror, "tell me this, and let it all end, let this end sooner!" - Dipper does not understand that he is screaming. His own voice is heard in a half-choked whisper.  
Bill answers him with a roaring laugh, releasing it from his hand for a moment, to shrug his shoulders and scoop up the moon-drenched air.  
"Do not you understand?" No? But it's obvious, kid! Obviously! What do I want, what-what-what-what-what ...  
Bill jerks him to him, almost breaking his fragile ribs, clicks his teeth right over his ear, cutting off the curl of his hair, presses his sharp knee into his clenched legs and freezes, savoring the scent of his skin in the bend of his shoulder with his long nose.  
"I want... y o u," he finally answers,tightly pressing his lips to Dipper's lips, and he chokes with the dumb, dumb cry of a deadly all-consuming panic.

 

.. It was really obvious from the beginning, but he was too worried about his sister to think about himself and the consequences of his latest and most terrible deal.  
He rashly gave Bill a promise, without specifying what he would decide to demand. Allowed to think now it becomes clear that this was just an excuse. Trusted him.  
And now I'm trapped, from which there is no way out.

"Trust no one" - these words were his motto for several years. And he followed him diligently, even doubting himself.  
Until one day allowed the monster from the closet to begin his strange dangerous game, where from the very first moment he was a loser.

Horror turns into agony. Dipper rushes and breaks out, trying to get out of his last strength from the nightmare to which he has condemned himself.  
He seems to be screaming. It seems that he is trying to reach out to the mad yellow eyes to wrest them along with the thin strings of nerves.  
Bill is filled with crazy laughter and with one movement breaks out his half-childish wrists, making him quiet down and go limp, throwing his head back to the pain in the vertebrae.  
He presses him to him with icy hands, breathes heavily and foully into his slightly open mouth, grabs his lips with sharp teeth, and Dipper desperately hopes that he will die before this monster does anything to him.  
... The moon peers into his horror-distorted face and drops silvery glare over his eyes like a coin for a dead.  
And then comes the absolute darkness.

 

... Downstairs, in the rest room, Mabel sits down on the ottoman and rubs swollen from a long sleep eyelids.  
"Where is Dipper?" - she asks, circling the room with a half-sleep look before falling into the arms of the sobbing Pacifica.  
"I sent him to sleep. He did not leave you for a minute and looked like a zombie. I said I'd call him when you wake up. Should I call? "  
"Do not let rest a little. I'm not going to sleep for a long time anymore, right? .. "Mabel looks at her friend with timid, frightened hope, and she nods seriously, pressing her to her - relaxed, hot and shaking.  
They sit in an embrace until dawn. Pacifica wants to know what happened that night, but remembering the doctor's words, she does not ask any questions.  
In the morning Mabel tells everything herself.

Sitting on the couch in the living room, Mabel warms her hands on a cup of strong sweet tea and carefully scraping out of memory the details of her disappearance.  
No one hurries her; everyone who sits next to him, understands how hard she is, and does not insist, but Mabel needs to speak out to put an end to this strange incident.

"... There was a boy there. A little, in a yellow T-shirt. He said that he was lost, and we went to look for his mother. I felt very sorry for him, he was so poor! I gave him my marshmallow so that he would not cry, and then ... I do not know, we probably found her, and she took me here? I just ... I do not remember anything. "  
"Yes, his mother brought you home, and you went to bed." - Pacifica is stroking Mabel's hair, secretly hoping that everything was just so, and not otherwise, although this version of events is too implausible to be true. But she prefers to believe in her and calm down - until finding out the circumstances.  
"It's all too suspicious ..." - mournfully mumbles Stan, rubbing the gray back of his neck. "Three days to look for someone's mother?" It's a full rave!"  
"Does Dipper still sleep?" - Having finished, Mabel looks around and jumps up from the couch, spilling the tea that has cooled down during the story. - Pfuuuu! Nothing, now I'll wake him up with my trademark way! I'll tickle him until he wakes up and begs for mercy! "  
Soon, the trampling of her legs subsides somewhere upstairs. Mabel is animated and cheerful - as if nothing had happened to her.  
Prudyat takes the phone and dials Piedmont - tell the nephew's parents that they will return home in a few of days.  
In the yard there is a tourist bus.  
Everything gradually begins to go in a rut.

 

... "Dipper, are you there? I'm come!"  
Mabel open the door to the attic and freezes on the threshold with her mouth open.  
It's empty. The brother's bed is strewn and covered with open books; a shabby blue-and-white cap lies on top of a crumpled blanket, on the floor are lying some scraps interspersed with packages from under the chips. A backpack with clothes and all sorts of boyish things smiles unbuttoned by the lightning because of the old trunk.  
Everything, as always, and everything is in place. Except her brother.  
He is not.  
This is strange. He always wears a cap, if somewhere he goes and always knocks his sister with fists for luck.

Mabel lifts his pillow and sees a diary carefully wrapped in an old T-shirt.  
So he's at home and just plays it out, as in his childhood.

"Dipper? You decided to scare me? "- she sinks to the floor and looks under the bed, hoping that the brother will get out of there, and they will laugh together.  
But from the gloom of the undercourt, only the plastic eyes of old toys and the clouds of gray dust are looking at her.

She becomes uncomfortable. A bad premonition finely touches under the ribs, getting to the heart and squeezing it with sharp claws. Mabel covers his face with his hands and quietly sobs from the anxiety that has engulfed her.

"Dipper? .. Dipper! Dipper !!! "- she calls with tears in her voice, but does not hear anything, except ringing, like a string, silence.  
"Dipper ..."

 

... The slightly open closet door creaks slowly behind her, and in this creak someone's ominous triumphant laughter is clearly heard.


End file.
